There's A Monster Out There
by Corgi202
Summary: Michael Darling, now 12, is the only one left in the nursery, and he still believes. At night, he dreams of flying with Peter again, and by day, he thinks of going back. When his wish comes true however, it's for the wrong of reasons. There's a monster in Neverland, killing pirates, mermaids and natives each night, and Michael can't help but wonder, what can he do? (PAIRING ALERT)
1. Chapter 1

-1-

Michael Darling was the youngest of the Darling family. Being the youngest, he was often led to follow his brother and sister in whatever they did. In his life, the hardest decisions were what shirt to wear.

Michael followed them anywhere really. Even if it meant the most magical of places.

Such as the time he and his siblings went to Neverland with Peter Pan, fighting the Elegant Captain Hook and having an amazing adventure. He was much younger back then, not having much recollection of it. He was ten now, his brother John fourteen and his sister Wendy seventeen. They both had moved out of the nursery, going off to finer schools in preparation of their adulthood.

Michael hadn't however. Being the youngest, he was coddled the most, and so he was left with the nursery all to himself.

Ever since they left, he felt alone. The room seemed bigger, quieter, and the play he and his brother once had was nothing but memories floating in the air.

Not only that, but, slowly Michael had small little dreams of flying with Peter again, probably stemmed from his small bit loneliness.

He had the strongest dream when his parents left for a party, similar to the night Peter came. His mother tucked him in and kissed his forehead, and just before she left, she dimmed the candle in the nursery.

So Michael dreamt a clear dream of flying in the clouds, Peter flying close nearby, smiling.

"Michael! This way!" Peter said, beckoning Michael to follow. He slowly flew under a cloud, and Michael followed. He caught up to Peter smiling.

"Can you see it?" Peter whispered, pointing somewhere beyond Michael's vision. Just as Michael was about to look, he awoke.

Michael glanced around the nursery, seeing nothing out of the sort. If he were a tad bit younger, he would have checked under his bed and closet for a monster. He did not however, and slid out of bed, walking towards the big window and opening it, letting the cold night air fill his lungs.

Michael slowly sat on the small perch that connected to the wall under the window, looking out to the world. He watched the stars for a moment, glancing mainly to one special star. He smiled. As time went on, he slowly began to get tired. As he was about to get off the perch and head back to bed, he called softly, "Peter..."

Then, he returned to bed.

Michael had no dreams as he slept, but he was awaken to a small tugging of his hair. Michael looked up, and at once a rather large grin spread over his face.

A small light that appeared to be a lightning bug, only he could see a small girl with beautiful wings within the light, was looking at him. She jingled.

"Hullo Tinkerbell," Michael said, sitting up. He followed the fairy as she faced him, jingling again and pointing towards the window. Michael glanced towards the window.

Then, his grin grew a tad bit wider from shock and happiness.

Peter slowly entered the window, standing on the wooden perch before it. He then stepped down onto the floor. He looked around, and spotted Michael.

"Michael!" Peter exclaimed.

"Peter!" Michael quickly pushed the covers off and walked towards him, giving him a good look over.

"It's really you! I saw Tinkerbell and thought it was a dream again, but now I see you!" Michael said.

"Yes Michael, it's me," Peter said. Tinkerbell flew over, hovering just above Peter's right shoulder.

"How are the Lost Boys? And the Natives? And the mermaids? Oh, how is the entire island of Neverland?" Michael asked, facing Peter. When he was three, the age he was when he first saw Peter, he was just about at his knee, always carrying around his bear. Now, he was the same height as Peter, which he was rather surprised by, and his bear was always left neatly on his bed, which he barely moved unless he was sleeping with it.

"Well, that's why I came back. I see you in Neverland sometimes while you sleep, and I heard you call my name, so I figured you knew what was wrong. But you see, something terrible is happening," Peter said.

"What?" Michael asked, drawing closer.

"I don't know, but I found a dead Native the other day. And a Lost Boy found a dead mermaid. Both had the same wounds, cuts over their throats and their eyes gouged out. I came back for Wendy, John, and your help, but..." Peter looked around the near empty nursery. "...Where are John and Wendy?"

Michael shuffled his feet. He looked to the ground, as though disappointed in the answer.

"They moved out of the nursery Peter. I believe they grew up..." Michael whispered. He heard a small gasp from Peter.

"That's why you're so tall..."

Michael glanced up at Peter, who looked to Tinkerbell. She had landed on Peter's shoulder now, shaking her head a bit, arms crossed. Peter took a sad breath in, looking to Michael.

"But you haven't," Peter said. He took Michael's hand.

"Michael, will you come back to Neverland? I need someone to help me find out what this is, and how to stop it," Peter said.

"Oh Peter, I would, I really would, but," Michael looked away. He wanted to go, but, but he was scared. Scared because this is what he had dreamed about. Going back to Neverland, but this not being the reason why he went back. He was scared because there was an unknown danger on the island, unlike last time. He wanted to go, but he was scared.

"But?" Peter asked.

"But, I forgot how to fly," Michael said. He really hadn't. In fact, he had picked out the memory he would use incase he would ever fly with Peter again. The day they got a new Nana, whom they'd named Nana II. Nana had passed away from being old, and as she began her journey to the next, she gave Mr. Darling a kiss, and then closed her eyes. The day soon after, Mr. Darling came home with a she Saint Bernard puppy. They named her, got her medical work taken care of, and got her licensed. Michael was so happy, he tended to play with her for hours, she soon becoming a spitting clone of the first Nana, even though the first Nana could never be replaced in Michael's heart.

"Oh, well that's easy to fix! I'll teach you again!" Peter said. He hopped onto Michael's bed, smiling as he stood proudly. Michael watched him, a smile that he couldn't force away pealing over his face.

"Just think of the happiest thought you have, it could be anything. Then, you believe, and before you know it," Peter took a small step off the bed, only to be standing in mid-air. "Your flying!"

Michael took a breath in. Tinkerbell jingled, as though reminding Peter of something. Peter looked to her.

"Hey, I didn't forget, I was just getting to that part," He said. He grounded and walked over to Michael.

"First, we need the dust," He looked crossly to Tinkerbell who rolled her eyes. Michael laughed. Tinkerbell flew over his head and swished her hands around as though she were dancing in one spot. Golden dust sprinkled, and again made Michael sneeze, which got a laugh from Peter. Tinkerbell then sat on Michael's shoulder with her legs crossed over another, looking away from Peter.

"She's mad at me." Peter laughed. "Wouldn't be the first time." He then led Michael to the window.

"Ready Michael?" He asked, jumping onto the window sill. Michael nodded. He thought of that memory he picked out, remembering the joy he felt that day, as it felt like Christmas, only better. Then, the joy flooded through his body, making him feel weightless.

He opened his eyes, and saw he was hovering. Peter crowed softly.

"Sweet! Now let's go!" Peter grasped Michael's hand and took a leap out the window. When he saw Michael solidly flying, he let go, and then flew backwards to face Michael.

"Remember how to get to Neverland?" Peter asked. Michael nodded.

"Still past the second star to the right, right?" Michael asked. Peter nodded.

"Uh-huh, and straight on till morning," Peter said. He then grinned mischievously.

"Race ya'!" Peter challenged. He sped off. Michael glanced around and saw Tinkerbell flying ahead. He then clumsily picked up in pace, following Peter.

-2-

If Michael were dreaming, he never wanted to wake up. It was as real as ever though. Flying with Peter again, and Tinkerbelle. It made him so happy.

Only, now, Neverland was different.

It was bright, like the last time he saw it, or the times he saw it in his dreams. It was dark, and the air around was cold. A fog, the color of dirty smoke, lingered around, making the whole island appear to be abandoned. It was no longer a dream, it was a nightmare.

"What-what did you say happened?" Michael asked.

"I don't know really, no one does. That's why I brought you. So you could help figure that out," Peter said. He took Michael's hand and led him towards land.

The smells hadn't changed. Still salty and sweet mixed into a strange concoction that even today Michael can't name.

"Tink, are you done being mad at me?" Peter asked. The tiny fairy sighed, and flew to the front, lighting up the darkness that rested there.

"Peter, it feels different, it feels cold," Michael said. "And, and it doesn't feel right."

"I told you something's wrong Michael," Peter said.

"But not, like this," Michael said. "I didn't know it was this bad."

"Well now you know," Peter said, following Tinkerbelle as she led the way. She then stopped and pointed, jingling vigorously.

"Sweet! Come on Michael!" Peter again took his hand and ran from the bushes, revealing the Lost Boy's hideout, still looking rather messy as boys usually leave things. A few stray baseball bats and footballs and other sports balls and equipment were stuck in strange places in the tree, which made Michael laugh. At home, Nana II usually kept the nursery clean, cleaning up his toys and making his bed.

"We can get straight down to business with the killer," Peter said.

Tinkerbelle vanished quicker then one could blink into the hideout, and Peter followed after her. Michael slowly followed, finding a strange slide made out of the root of the tree, and tumbled down. He felt as though he were Alice, tumbling down the rabbit hole.

He plopped out onto the dirt ground, standing up and dusting his pajamas off. He then glanced up, and an involuntary smile sprouted over his face.

The Lost Boys were crowded around Peter, voices swirled and crunched and mashed into one strange course of thunderous noise.

Tinkerbelle was floating around as though trying to listen to each one. She seemed distraught, glancing at Peter, who was looking rather aggravated.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Listen, everyone, I brought help. You all remember Michael, kee-rect?" Peter pointed towards Michael, who gave a small wave and smile when they glanced in his direction.

"He's here to help us. Solve this here case. Now, _in an orderly fashion,_ tell me what you saw."Peter said. Each one began to file in a single line down the front to Peter, though it wasn't a perfect line. If one were to walk in, there would be holes they would need to step over or a small hill they'd need to climb.

"It came Peter! Just before you left, y'know, you were sleeping? That's when we saw it,


	2. Chapter 2

-2-

If Michael were dreaming, he never wanted to wake up. It was as real as ever though. Flying with Peter again, and Tinkerbell. It made him so happy.

Only, now, Neverland was different.

It wasn't bright, like the last time he saw it, or the times he saw it in his dreams. It was dark, and the air around was cold. A fog, the color of dirty smoke, lingered around, making the whole island appear to be abandoned. It was no longer a dream, it was a nightmare.

"What-what did you say happened?" Michael asked.

"I don't know really, no one does. That's why I brought you. So you could help figure that out," Peter said. He took Michael's hand and led him towards land.

The smells hadn't changed. Still salty and sweet mixed into a strange concoction that even today Michael can't name.

"Tink, are you done being mad at me?" Peter asked. The tiny fairy sighed, and flew to the front, lighting up the darkness that rested there.

"Peter, it feels different, it feels cold," Michael said. "And, and it doesn't feel right."

"I told you something's wrong Michael," Peter said.

"But not, like this," Michael said. "I didn't know it was this bad."

"Well now you know," Peter said, following Tinkerbell as she led the way. She then stopped and pointed, jingling vigorously.

"Sweet! Come on Michael!" Peter again took his hand and ran from the bushes, revealing the Lost Boy's hideout, still looking rather messy as boys usually leave things. A few stray baseball bats and footballs and other sports balls and equipment were stuck in strange places in the tree, which made Michael laugh. At home, Nana II usually kept the nursery clean, cleaning up his toys and making his bed.

"We can get straight down to business with the killer," Peter said.  
Tinkerbell vanished quicker then one could blink into the hideout, and Peter followed after her. Michael slowly followed, finding a strange slide made out of the root of the tree, and tumbled down. He felt as though he were Alice, tumbling down the rabbit hole.

He plopped out onto the dirt ground, standing up and dusting his pajamas off. He then glanced up, and an involuntary smile sprouted over his face.

The Lost Boys were crowded around Peter, voices swirled and crunched and mashed into one strange course of thunderous noise.

Tinkerbell was floating around as though trying to listen to each one. She seemed distraught, glancing at Peter, who was looking rather aggravated.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Listen, everyone, I brought help. You all remember Michael, kee-rect?" Peter pointed towards Michael, who gave a small wave and smile when they glanced in his direction.

"He's here to help us. Solve this here case. Now, in an orderly fashion, tell me what you saw." Peter said. Each one began to file in a single line down the front to Peter, though it wasn't a perfect line. If one were to walk in, there would be holes they would need to step over or a small hill they'd need to climb.

"It came Peter! Just before you left, y'know, you were sleeping? That's when we saw it, it was a big, ferocious, thing! A monster!" Fox said.

Others said more, and the noise was enough to make Peter snap.

"Shush! Michael and I will hunt for it."

Michael's heart skipped a beat. Hunt for it? He had hunted before. Back in his first visit. The pirates, he had fought the pirates. Back when he forgot his mother, when he had felt like a Lost Boy himself.

"Tink, care for the Lost Boys, Michael, come with me!" Peter said.

Michael was already sick five steps out of the hideout. He was scared, absolutely positively scared. Only one other time had he been scared like this. He was scared when he couldn't find his bear. His bear was like a nightlight. When he was young, he couldn't sleep without it. Now, he could sleep without it, but having it there made the bed feel a bit more comfortable, a bit more like a home it's self. Strange, how these objects children have bring them such joy and comfort.

He shuddered, and looked up, seeing Peter stopped dead. He looked at Michael, and then looked at the ground. Michael looked. Dark green grass stood out against the grey green grass. He didn't want to look. He knew it was a body.

"How far away...are we from...the Hideout?" Michael asked.

"About, a bit or so away," Peter said. He went forward and touched the body.

"Poor girl..."

So it was a mermaid. Peter took out his dagger, and Michael looked away. He didn't know what Peter was doing, but it sounded gory and bloody. It sounded like he were a butcher cutting a thick hunk of meat into finer slices. It finally ceased.

"Michael? You can look now."

Michael looked, and his eyes watered. Peter was bloody, leaving a bush that he had been behind.

"I buried her. Looked like the body was old though, wonder how long she had been dead," Peter said.

"Maybe the monster doesn't clean up after itself," Michael said. He sighed, and rubbed an eye, yawning a bit.

"Tired?" Peter asked.

"What? No, I'm just a bit sleepy," Michael said.

"It's fine, I'm tired too," Peter said. "Here, follow me."

Peter leapt into brush, and Michael followed. He slipped after Peter, who walked a lion in his territory. He knew where every branch, every stone, every nook and cranny, every small puddle, every stalk of grass, he knew where it all was.

Michael, however, was completely obvious to these. In fact, he didn't know where the boulders or trees or holes were. He tripped and fell once or twice, stumbled many times, and walked into a spider's web once.

Peter stopped abruptly, and Michael rammed into him. He then looked at Michael with that mischievous look one had to smile at.

"This is, a secret. Can you keep a secret?" Peter asked. He didn't wait for an answer though. He walked through the moss draping down to keep the secret of Michael's view. Michael followed, only to be amazed by pure beauty.

It was echoed in soft grass, a break in the trees to see the sky, and fireflies dancing in the dark. Moonlight kissed the spot, making the flowers around have silver aurora.

"This is beautiful Peter!" Michael said, going forward and kneeling into the grass. It was soft indeed, like a pillow.

"I know, I kept it secret so that way no one could find me here. A quiet place for thinking," Peter said. "It keeps going, you can slid down a hill side to an even bigger area, there's water there too," Peter said.

"Sounds divine," Michael said. He yawned again, and stretched out on the grass. Peter settled beside him, looking at the stars, head resting on his hands as he laid on his back. His eyes diverted to Michael, who shivered slightly.

"Cold?" Peter asked.

"A little," Michael said.

"Come here," Peter said. Michael slowly drew towards Peter, pressing against him for warmth. He was surprised by how the other boy could keep so warm in the cold nip in the air. Peter slowly placed an arm around him, though he found it rather awkward.

"Tell me a story," Peter said.

"A story?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, like Wendy," Peter said.

"Uh...well..." Michael went into thought. Think of a story. He drew a breath in.

"There was a wolf once. A wolf that was feared. All of the animals in the land feared the wolf. The wolf killed for food and this was thought to be for sport by the animals. One day, he was chasing a rabbit. But his legs grew weak. The blood on his teeth was not fresh, it was far beyond dry. It had once captured the rabbit, but it wasn't quite right. Eventually, the rabbit's leg gave way, and it slid into the dirt. The wolf came upon it, and laid beside it. The rabbit, terrified, let a tear slip from his eye. The wolf however, was sad. He knew he was a wolf, he was known to bite and kill, but the thought of fresh meat made him ill. The rabbit closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the wolf was standing, bloodied. A hawk had tried to kill the rabbit, but the wolf had saved him. The rabbit, from that day forward, stayed with the wolf."

Michael finished his story and looked to Peter. He looked intrigued, and fascinated.

"That's a nice story," He said. He smiled at Michael, and Michael kept to his chest.

"You're lucky. I don't allow people to get this close," Peter said.

"Why?" Michael asked.

"Girls like to break things," Peter said.

"You, you loved someone?" Michael asked. He never thought Peter to be one for love.

"No, it wasn't love at all," Peter said. "Why do you think there's no Lost Girls?"

"I thought you said girls were too clever to fall out of their cribs," Michael said. Peter laughed.

"Yes, that, and other reasons. Aren't you tired?" He didn't want to talk about it anymore.

"Yeah, yeah I am," Michael said. He closed his eyes, and tried to sleep. He slept for a good three hours, before awakening cold. Peter was gone. At first he thought he was back in the nursery, and it was all a dream, again. But no, it was not. He was still on the soft grass in the firefly meadow. He looked around, a bit scared.

"Peter?" He called softly.

"I did it...I did it...I killed her..."

Michael was afraid properly now. He stood, and contemplated looking for what was speaking.

"She's dead..." The crazed voice laughed. It sounded distorted, almost like a crazed clown that had a crackled voice. "I killed her! I killed her! She's dead!"

Michael drew forward slowly. Actually, he went to the continuation of Peter's special spot, with the water and the willow trees.

"I killed her...all it takes is a little bit of pixie blood...and things can die!"

It was a boy. He looked gray, psychically grey. His hair was long, just touching his shoulders, and he looked like a pencil sketching. The only color was his eyes. His eyes were black with red irises that glowed more menacing than a snake about to strike. He was hunched over the water, red sitting mellow in the water. He had cleaned himself of blood.

Michael studied it for a few seconds more, before stifling a gasp and placing a hand over his mouth. The thing had killed a fairy, it's tiny body behind the boy. It looked like a mauled mouse, it's glow completely gone. He then realized in the next three seconds, that this monstrous boy that has killed a fairy, was Peter.

 **A/N: Hey guys! Long time no see! Sorry, I've been bust irl, new boyfriend and all. But, my motivation for this story has returned! Expect more to come! Also, I'm looking for someone to design a cover, if you'd do that, I'd be so honored! Anyways, thank you guys so much! Remember to eat butter and kill squids! See ya my doges!**


	3. Chapter 3

-3-

How did he know? The thing looked like Peter. It was dressed the same, he could still hearing Peter's voice underneath the cracked distorted voice, and it held his aura of emotions. But how? How could it be Peter? Peter was fine moments ago, Peter would never do this.

Michael shrunk down, watching Peter. He stood, and began to walk back towards Michael. Michael held back the urge to scream and stumbled back to the spot, only to hide in the bushes. Peter lied down in the same spot, seemingly unfazed by the fact Michael was gone. Michael then watched as Peter, changed. His body had black smoke slowly engulf it, and soon enough, he was normal, almost like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. He was shivering now, and shot up like he had just had a nightmare.  
"Michael?" He called softly. Michael slowly emerged from the bushes.

"I'm here Peter," he said softly.

"Where were you?" Peter asked

"Getting a drink. Bad dream?" Michael asked. Peter shook his head.

"Naw, I just realized you weren't there," Peter said. Michael nodded slowly, and sat back down beside him.

Michael couldn't sleep after that.

"Michael, look! Blood!"

Peter was examining the fairy body, obviously hurt.

"Who would kill Streamsky? She was one of the sweeter fairies," Peter said, wiping a tear from his eye. Not that he'd let Michael see.

"P-Peter...I know the killer," Michael muttered. Peter shot up like a kangaroo, flying bit, hovering just before Michael.

"Who? Who? Is it a pirate? I knew Hook was up to something again! This is too far!" Peter was about to continue when Michael shook his head, fighting back tears so badly that his eyes hurt and his throat tightened.

"No, no Peter, it's not Hook..." Suddenly, Michael fell to his knees, and he cried.

"Michael what's wrong? What happened? Do you know the killer? Is it a Lost Boy?" Peter was now on his knees, beside Michael, a hand placed on his shoulder.

"I know the killer well Peter...you do too...well you should..." Michael said, the sentence hard to complete. Air was hard in his lungs. "The killer...the killer is you Peter..."

Peter's eyes widened, and he seemed shocked enough that with one tip he'd fall over and still be in the same position.

"Michael...if this is some kind of sick joke..."

Michael shook his head, wiping his eyes. "No, I'm dead serious Peter. Last night, I don't think you recall it, but you were different. Almost like a pencil sketch. You kept saying, 'I killed her...I killed her...all it takes is a little bit of pixie blood...and they can die!'" He only repeated the words since once they slipped out, the rest followed like a the carts of a freight train speeding down tracks.

Peter, held back tears, and he sat down, same way as Michael, looking to be in pain. He clutched his chest, and began to jerk violently forward, and broke into a fit of coughing. He then, began to cry. Cry enough to fill a pond.

Michael did the best thing he could to comfort Peter. Words would do nothing, only go in one ear and out the other. Instead, he reached out and hugged the other boy. At first Peter was surprised, but then, for a reason still unknown today, he turned, and hugged Michael back.

So here they were, two hugging boys, scared of the truth that one was a killer and hadn't known it, scared because there was still questions that needed answering.

They sat there, silenced now, still hugging. Poor Peter was too weak from shock and horror he didn't feel like moving. Michael didn't know what to do. Usually Peter was the leader, but with him stuck in his mentally ill state, Michael could only sit, helpless like a child, wondering what to do.

What would Wendy do?

She's try to cheer Peter up probably, with a story. She'd dry his tears, and mother him. But Michael was no mother. He was, well, Michael.

"Peter, Peter please don't cry. Shh, it'll be okay. Just..." Michael looked for words, and though he was sure that Peter wasn't listening. He kneeled down and rubbed Peter's eyes of the tears gently. Peter looked up at Michael, obviously distraught and broken.

Michael sat across him, touching him at the knee, placing his hands on Peter's shoulders.

"Peter, look at me," Michael said. Peter looked up, and Michael did his best not to start and cry.

"Peter, you are not a monster or a killer. You're a hero, slayer of the Elegant Captain Hook, leader of the Lost Boys. Don't give up. Smile, just, just think of the happiest things, it's the same as having wings," Michael whispered. Peter, despite the storm of sadness, smiled. Michael smiled as well. He helped Peter stand, and Peter leaned against Michael. He took a breath in, and then let it go, as though refreshed.

"Where to next leader?" Michael asked. Peter's smile grew.

"Well, uh...I know! We'll go to Mother Nature! She'll know what to do!" Peter said. He jumped a bit, and ended up hovering in the air.

"Come on Michael! It'll be quicker if we fly!" Peter said.

"How long does pixie dust last?" Michael asked.

"Don't worry! Just believe!" Peter said.

"But-"

"Believe!"

Peter grabbed Michael's hands and brought him into the air. He let go, and Michael thought he'd fall for a heartbeat, but then, he realized, he was flying. Michael gasped, and grabbed Peter, who laughed. Peter leaned back, Michael now resting against him.

"Scared? We did fly here," Peter said.

"I know but, flying here is like riding a roller coaster, but, short flying is so..." Michael wouldn't let himself say 'scary'.

"Just don't look at the ground. Look at me," Peter said. He gently tilted Michael's head so it would look at him and him only. Michael looked at his soft eyes, and felt the knot in his stomach unwind.

Peter glanced at the ground every now and then, just to get an idea of where they were. Then, he gently stopped, and hovered down. A bit scared of the ground, Michael hugged Peter's chest, and closed his eyes. He heard Peter quietly laugh. Then, his feet were on the ground.

They walked for a solid five minutes, before they came across a grand cave.

"Who is Mother Nature?" Michael asked, fumbling with his hands nervously.

"She's, the mother of this land. She was the one who brought me here, she watches over everything. It's a legend, but the Lost Boys like to say she raises the sun and the moon in her sleep," Peter said. "She created Neverland for us, well not us entirely, but you get the picture."

"What about the pirates? And the mermaids? And the fairies? And the natives?" Michael asked. They were walking into the cave now, it never loosing light, as Michael would have expected.

"The mermaids were girls who never wanted to grow up, the fairies are her creation to watch over the land, she seems to be always slumbering, only awakening to change the seasons. The pirates-" Peter took out his dagger to cut away vines. "Are here only by me asking-"

"You asked for the pirates to stay?"

"Things get a little boring. Besides, Hook's long gone," Peter said. "Or, off this island anyway."

"What about the Natives?"

Peter only laughed, and cut away more vines. "Why don't you ask her Michael? She loves new faces," Peter said.

"When was the last time you were here?" Michael asked.

"About, uh, I dunno," Peter said. Michael laughed, and followed after the boy.

He broke a vine, and light raced towards them. Michael was blinded, and only until his eyes adjusted did he searched blinded for the way of foreword.

When his eyes adjusted, he was amazed. It was beautiful.

Rays of light came down in ways that made it seem the ground below was important. The ground was green and soft, speckled with different colors. He could hear birds singing softly, unsure of how they got in there. Blended in with the soft bird sounds was the sound of flowing water. He saw four statues, an otter one near a small stream, a lion one where the sun gleamed down, a stag one where there was many lush greenery, and an eagle one where wind-chimes (that served as homes for a few fairies) were hanging gently from bushes.

What stood out though, was the flowering cherry tree, it's pink flower petals gently falling.

Michael couldn't help but smile. It was beautiful, more beautiful than anything he ever known. It may have matched the beauty of his mother, maybe.

He looked around, and around, and around. He smiled to the east wall and west wall, spotting two birds flying up the rays of light.

He then looked back, at Peter. Peter was having difficulty walking, stumbling and placing a hand against his head as if he had a headache.

He quickly rushed back to the other boy, and the moment he touched him Peter slumped against him.

"You okay Peter?" Michael asked, never seeing the high-spirited boy this pained.

"Yeah, yeah, I just...I don't know what came over me. I feel uneasy..." Peter said. "Come on...Mother Nature is waiting."

He helped Peter towards the tree, which he said was Mother Nature. Michael didn't question the logic behind it, he just believed it.

He stopped just before it, now realizing every now and then he'd heard a small child's laugh, and one of the flowers would open, and a fairy would be curled up inside. It would awaken, and looked around, before being tugged away by other fairies that looked like colored fireflies in the dark.

"There is darkness here..."

Michael looked up, and saw a tall woman walk out from the tree. She just, came to be, as if appearing out of the mist. She wore a lovely pink dress that wrapped around her legs and came down to the ground. The flowers of the trees sparkled in her blonde hair as she looked to Peter.

"Peter? What on earth...what happened to him Michael?" She asked.

"How-" Michael didn't finish. It was useless. The woman knelt to face Peter, who looked up at her. The woman quickly stood and flinched in pain.

"I don't know what happened...but...he's turning into this...evil form...and killing things in his sleep," Michael said.

"I knew there was a spirit here. I felt it the moment Hook left..." She said. She turned to Michael. "Pardon, I'm Mother Nature, mother to Neverland."

"Oh-!"

Peter suddenly dropped from Michael's shoulder, curling up, tensing in pain.

"Shh! Shh Peter, calm down...think of a happy thought..."

Peter relaxed, eyes shut. His hands that had been clenching grass released the green, and he seemed to fall asleep.

"What's happening to him?" Michael asked. Mother Nature sighed.

"He is sleeping now, while he sleeps in here the spirit wouldn't dare come out, it is not strong enough yet," She said.

"Strong enough?" Michael asked.

"It feeds off any strong emotion, but it's favorite food is pixie blood," She said.

"Pixie blood?" Michael asked.

"It gives it more power, and if it grows powerful enough, it could take over Peter. Or, Peter could learn to control it, to have consciousness when the spirit comes out, but that takes time-" Mother Nature sighed. "So much to talk about, so little time, so very little time," she said.

Michael looked Peter. "So many questions as well," He said. He heard Mother Nature laugh, she then sat down beside Michael.

"You're a Darling boy right? Peter wouldn't stop talking about you. Mainly that Wendy girl too, I think that was his first true crush," She said, laughing slightly.

"I thought Peter didn't like loving, or liking, since, it's grown up," Michael said.

"Oh, love is beyond grown-up. Children love too. They love their mummies and daddies. They love their first toys, their first pets, they love their first time tasting candy and finding their best friend," She said. "Love is the most magical thing in the world. It helps wishes come true, dreams soar beyond the sky."

"I wish for things all the time. I never realized love had so much to do with it," Michael said.

"When Peter first wished to never grow up, he loved being a boy. He loved imagining. He thought being grown-up would take it all away," Mother Nature stood, and looked to Michael. "Follow me," She said.

Michael followed, coming to a small pond. Mother Nature knelt down and touched her right hand upon the lake.

"There was once a mermaid that wished to be human. She loved the world above, she loved a human. She wanted to be part of his world," She said. Michael looked into the water and watched as a red-haired mermaid sitting on a rock, watched a black haired prince playing with his dog.

"There was once a girl who loved to imagine, and wished to be free, to be imaginative and happy, so she fell down a rabbit hole and went to Wonderland." The mermaid turned into a blonde haired little girl falling, and as she did, so many wondrous things surrounded her.

"A lion who loved his father, wishing for his father to be alive again, went on to be his father and greater." It turned to a lion, roaring on a rock.

"A boy who loved staying young, wishing to never-grow up. I sent him Tinkerbell, and she took him here," Mother Nature said. Michael smiled as he was a younger Peter Pan, talking to Tinker Bell.

"Peter grows up?" Michael asked.

"Oh, he ages yes. But very slowly. A year for him is twenty for normal people. Even then, I take it upon myself to allow this number to change from time to time. He will stop aging eventually, but he had to grow up a bit so he can, how do I put this, mature a bit." Mother Nature laughed at herself. "I've already seen it with you," she said.

"What?" Michael asked.

"Peter's feelings for you change every day, I felt it when I felt the spirit's energy. He likes you, the way you care for him, do you care for him?" Mother Nature asked.

"I comfort him and go along with him," Michael said.

"He has strong feelings for you Michael. A sense of protection, a thing hard to come by," she said with a warm smile.

Mother Nature stood, and began to walk away. Michael followed. He watched the steady rising and falling of Peter's chest, wondering if Peter was dreaming. If he dreamed, what did he dream about? Neverland was a dream, and he was actually living it. Did he dream of flying with griffins? Did he dream of fighting beasts that did not live on Neverland?

Peter twitched, and then awoke softly. He looked around, and rubbed his eyes.

"Nice nap Peter?" Michael asked. He smiled, and sat up.

"What did you dream about?" Michael asked.

"Weird stuff. You were there Michael, and I was there. It was strange, the way I was holdi-" Peter was cut off when Mother Nature began shushing and closing her eyes.

"It seems as though an old enemy, has come back," she said. Peter shot up into the air.

"Hook? Ole' Hook's back?" He asked. Mother Nature opened her eyes and smiled.

"It seems so Peter," she said. Peter let out a crow of happiness.

"Michael! Let's go! Let's go!" He said, grabbing Michael's hand and bringing him into the air.

"But Peter, what about-"

"We'll come back later! Hook's back! Good ole' Hook!" Peter said.

Mother Nature smiled as she watched them go, before turning back to the tree.

"You know this is worse than what you told, right?"

She turned, her gaze falling upon a stag, except he seemed to be made of root, the root twining around his body, protecting a glowing green light at his chest. His antlers made of wood, strong sturdy wood that would never break, holding many birds upon it's branches. His hooves made of stone, and his eyes fierce lights.

"I know, but they are young. I don't want to poison their young minds with tragedy," she said. The stag shook his head.

"You do know that Peter will grow to care for him, right? You know the spirit will also begin to crumble-"

"That, is how I intend for Peter to control it. This protection, this, feeling, will allow Peter and the spirit to work in harmony, the spirit will want to protect him, and once it gets a taste of this, it will work with Peter," Mother Nature said.

"True true," The stag said, dipping it's antler. "But the spirit will always crave power, always crave destruction, the evil and discord. If Peter does work in harmony with it, it's poison will corrupt his mind as well." The stag said.

Mother Nature turned away, angered.

"Leave Guardian of Earth. Have the Guardian of Water watch them. There are things I need to do," Mother Nature said. The stag again dipped his one antler to the side.

"Yes, your majesty." He turned, and leapt off.

Mother Nature disappeared into the tree, turning as if a memory casted into a sea of forgetfulness. The only thing that was left, was the tree and it's opening blossoms, the statue of where an otter would be, the statue of the lion, the statue of a stag, and the statue of an eagle.


End file.
